


Courtship Rites

by rivendellrose



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Alien Culture, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9135154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivendellrose/pseuds/rivendellrose
Summary: Sheer randomness.  I’m not sure why the hell this happened, but it’s at least partly Icepixie’s fault for drawing my attention to Delenn’s earrings in the scene with her dinner date with Sheridan.  Once I started paying attention to that, I got a niggling desire to explore a little more. This was just a silly little piece, practice for a longer and more complicated fic that I'm also working on, but I hope it might amuse.During “A Race Through Dark Places,” Delenn makes a number of preparations, and thinks about how her life has changed, and is still changing.Written and posted on Livejournal in July of 2010.





	

Courtship rituals among the Minbari religious caste were, like so many things, an organized, somewhat complicated affair. Of course, there was plenty of room for relationships that fell outside the close confines of what was defined as full courtship, but even there, ritual ruled. There were prayers, rites, observances to assure that intent was pure and that partners were in the right frame of mind for what was to come. 

In the mountains of her house’s home region, Delenn would have begun a courtship by praying in the temple, then meditating. She would have risen before dawn, in the hour the Vorlons named for longing, and knelt on the stone floor worn smooth with the passing feet and bent knees of centuries, and thought. Waited. Patiently sought in her mind for her true feelings about the one she would call her beloved. When she knew her heart, she would stand, and write the name of her beloved on a slip of ribbon and set it under a candle, which she would light while saying a prayer. The smell of the oil and incense would mingle with stone and the cold morning wind over scrub in the valley, and she would leave the candle burning alone in the darkness, a testament to possibility.

Far away from home, the candle could not be left to burn all day as it would have at home. In the depths of space, the wind would not carry her hopes with dawn’s cool breeze to her would-be lover, to perhaps entice them to think of her. Still, the ribbon was inscribed and the candle burned while she watched it, thinking about what to do. How to begin a human courtship. 

At home, while the candle burned down, she would have gone about her usual business - Sang the morning prayers with the other priests and priestesses of her house, meditated again, ate breakfast while someone read aloud from the scriptures, and then gone about her studies for the day while her prayers for love melded to music with the rhythm of her work. This time, Delenn found herself taking on a whole new kind of work - researching human ‘dating,’ and how to go about it, on the station’s computer. She had already discovered that dinner at a restaurant was a traditional beginning to courtship, and that invitation had been given and accepted. But it seemed there were many other considerations to take into account. 

For one thing, there was the matter of clothing.

“You want me to go shopping with you.” Commander Ivanova did not sound nearly as pleased as Delenn had hoped she would be. 

“The station’s computer indicated that shopping for clothes is considered an amusing and relaxing bonding experience for Human women,” Delenn explained. “I wanted to thank you for all your help and advice in the past months. You have been an invaluable assistance to me, Commander.”

“I’m glad it helped, but...” Ivanova hesitated. “The computer might have over emphasized the importance of the whole shopping thing as bonding for Human women, okay? It’s kind of a stereotype. Almost a joke. And an out of date one.”

“I see. This practice is no longer followed.” That did make things more difficult.

“No... no. I mean, Humans shop. It’s a relaxing thing. It’s just that I don’t want you getting the wrong impression of Humans, like that’s the only thing we do for recreation,” Ivanova said. “If we want to spend time together, we do all sorts of things. Walk in the gardens, play games and sports, watch vids, go out to dinner--”

“I understand.” Delenn bowed her head, considering how to best to approach the intention of her request. It would be counter-productive to tell Ivanova too much - she was close to John, and Delenn got the impression that little remained secret between them for long. If she were known to be doing something as strange was wanting human clothing specifically for a courtship dinner, Ivanova might well mention the oddity to John. That would ruin the element of surprise that Delenn had counted on, and cause him to think too hard about the upcoming meeting between them. No, that would not do. She could not say exactly what the clothing was for. But she could tell other true details that she hoped would incline the commander to help her. “To tell the truth... I find myself in need of your assistance again, Susan.” The personal name slipped out as though unintentional, a mere side-effect of the intimacy of the subject, and Delenn hoped it would project the right level of both friendship and vulnerability.

“With shopping?” Ivanova took a sip of her coffee and held the cup between her hands, her brows drawing together with curiousity.

“Yes. These clothes... are different enough from my old clothing that they underline my difference to both Minbari and Humans. But it occurs to me that if I truly wish to understand Humans...” She trailed off, and smiled engagingly at the other woman. “Do you not have a saying, ‘clothes make the man?’”

“We do, but it’s not really meant literally.”

“Of course not. But I feel it wrong somehow to try to understand Humans - and go to all this trouble to change my body to do it - and yet refuse to wear Human clothing simply because I am uncomfortable with it, and too ashamed of my ignorance to remedy that discomfort.”

Ivanova seemed to hesitate, and then relented. “All right. But it’ll have to wait until after fourteen-hundred,” she cautioned. “I have duty, and meetings after that.”

“Of course.” Delenn bowed. Fourteen-hundred would give her plenty of time before her meeting with John to find an acceptable outfit and make other preparations. “Until then, Commander. And thank you.” 

* * *

1400hrs, a clothier’s boutique on the Zocalo:

“I believe the phrase is ‘little black dress?’” Delenn smiled at her companion’s surprise at the phrase. “From what I read on the station’s computer, it is a staple of of a Human woman’s wardrobe. Something like this?” Grabbing randomly into the rack, she pulled out a sheaf of nearly-transparent black silk, festooned with glittering black beads.

“Um,” said Ivanova. “I think the saying refers to something a little more... sedate.” She reached out, plucked the hanger from Delenn’s hand and returned it to the rack between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Perhaps not quite so many beads, then.” Delenn agreed. 

“Particularly if you’re thinking of wearing this in the councl chamber. It might be considered... distracting. Something like this, maybe...” The suit Ivanova pulled off the rack this time was made of soft wool dyed the color of the night sky, with silver buttons and a sedate, refined air that was, no doubt, very appropriate for a serious professional. It reminded Delenn somewhat of the suits that the telepath Talia Winters wore.

“Distracting.” Delenn rolled that word and all its possible interpretations in her mind as she looked at this new contender for her interest. “No, I think this one is too serious, too much for business. Perhaps I would like something... just a _little_ distracting? Not the beads - they seem to me too loud, too bright, but something... that draws the eye?” 

“You want to attract attention?” Ivanova suggested, raising an eyebrow. “Really? I mean, that’s fine, I’m just... surprised, I guess.”

“Perhaps,” Delenn said carefully. “Minbari clothes are all very much the same. All the same style, within a given purpose. There is much variation in fabric - in pattern and quality and in variations on color - but otherwise...”

“I’d noticed,” Ivanova acknowledged drily. 

“You think it foolish of me to want something different,” Delenn offered. “Think of this. I am between two worlds, two species. Wherever I go, either with Humans or with Minbari, or even others, I already attract attention for my appearance. Perhaps, in this, I wish only to have something that would attract the eye for a reason I can control.”

Ivanova nodded slowly. “Makes sense to me. If people are going to be looking at you anyway, you might as well let them know you’re aware of it, and that you’re not ashamed. What about one of these, then...”

* * *

“What do you think?”

Ivanova turned from the rack of blouses she’d been flipping through, and stared as Delenn stepped out of the little changing alcove the shop offered. 

“Is it all right?” Delenn prompted. The dress she wore felt unspeakably strange on her, almost like leaving the chrysalis again, her skin no longer her own. The three mirrors angled in front of her showed a figure that seemed somehow taller and thinner than she knew herself to be, and the fabric clung to her body in a way her normal clothes never had, like a second skin of sleek black. And then there was this strange, diamond-shaped cutout on her chest... 

“Er,” said Ivanova. She looked somewhat shocked. 

Delenn frowned. “Susan, please, tell me. Does it look bad?”

“No, no, it’s... it’s just... really different, that’s all.” She circled around Delenn, her eyes at first critical and then, with a growing warmth, appreciative. “You’ll definitely turn heads if you wear that. Here - let’s see what it looks like with your hair up.”

It was easy, relinquishing herself to the human woman’s hands. Part of her willingness, Delenn thought, lay in her own ignorance. Although she had learned a great deal about her new body in the time since she had sent for the commander in a panic, begging her for help with the mess her new hair had become, she was still relatively new to the details of a half-Human body. Susan had the experience of twenty-some years to rely on. But there was, she knew, more to her feeling of ease than that. At home on Minbar, preparation for a serious courtship would have been an occasion to call together her closest clan sisters for their assistance. She had helped to prepare Mayan for courtship, long ago, and had always blithely assumed that even if Mayan herself were too busy when the time came for her, there would be other friends and sisters to enjoy the night with her. They would laugh and sing, and trade jokes and stories while they rubbed the oil of _tialum_ seeds into her skull-crest and her fingernails to make them shine, and touch her throat, wrists and ankles with sweet-scented oils. They would burn incense and make her walk around it thrice three times, teasing her all the while as they made wildly silly pretended guesses at the identity of her intended. 

Her old friends, she knew, would have nothing of this courtship, and would not have been so happy for her as those thoughts imagined. Mayan in particular would have hated John. She had written a memorial poem for the Black Star after its destruction, with many foul words reserved to further blacken the name of Starkiller. She still wore the Humans’ mark on her forehead, and told any who asked her, in a tone that was quiet but firm, that they were not to be trusted. She had returned none of Delenn’s messages since her change and Delenn, out of respect for a long friendship now gone dry, had after three tries stopped sending them. There were others, of course - sisters from her days in the temple - but none who she could ask to come to her now that the council had sent her away and ordered her to remain on Babylon 5 with the Humans. For ritual and holy days, meals and meditation, she had Lennier - his sweetness and loyalty was a balm in her exile, but for some times only another woman felt right. Strange as she was to Delenn, Susan’s voice was a comfort. Her long fingers as she twisted and twined Delenn’s hair reminded her of long-ago sisterhood and dreams of what might have been. 

“We’ll have to pin it... lucky for you I’m off duty now, I’ll just take mine down and use those pins. You can keep these,” Ivanova added. The pins tugged and pricked in Delenn’s scalp for an instant each, one, two, three, and then Ivanova’s hands moved to her shoulders, turning her around. 

“How does it look?”

“See for yourself.” Ivanova jerked her chin toward a mirror.

The woman in the mirror looked more Human than Minbari. For a moment, her goal forgotten, Delenn didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

“What’s this all about, Delenn?” Ivanova said softly, watching her face in the mirror.

“Destiny,” Delenn told her, and straightened her shoulders.

Ivanova regarded her suspiciously for a moment, then blew a puff of air from her nose and shook her head. “You’re going to want earrings to go with that, if it’s that serious.”

“Earrings?”

* * *

The strange, fleshy lobes of her ears still stung when she returned to her quarters. Lennier stood when she entered, and then stared, shocked at her appearance.

“This time,” he said in his quiet, solemn voice, “I do not think I need to _ask_ f that hurts. I will get you something for the pain.”

“That’s not necessary, Lennier.”

“But putting metal in your ears...” He trailed off, pressing his lips together in the way he did when he resented something she’d done, but remembered just in time that it was not right for him to question her decisions on some things, no matter how casual and friendly their relationship had become. 

“Was not necessary, but it was my decision.” Delenn touched the dangling curves of metal that hung from the pins. “It is rather appealing, in a strange way.”

Lennier looked highly dubious, but bowed and said nothing as she took out the last of her purchases - the first cosmetics she had bought since her change. At first, she had avoided her familiar old standbys of fear that they would not agree with her new body chemistry, and then, after working up the courage to try them again, she had been forced to admit that colors that had contrasted pleasantly or blended in an appealing way with her naturally pale skin as a ful Minbari did not look at all right on pinker half-Human skin. Everything clashed. With a little help from Ivanova, she had selected a pale blue-grey shadowing powder for her eyes, a kohl that was more acceptable to the chemistry of Human eyes, and a lipstick in a faintly brownish tone of pink. Painting the last on took a bit of practice, and it then seemed inclined to rub off too easily - she missed the dark red, herb-derived stain she had used for so long, but this new color looked much better with her darker skin.

“Well, Lennier?” She turned, and waited as he looked up from some paperwork.

“I...” He hesitated.

“The truth, Lennier. Please. Tonight may prove to be very important.”

Something in his face tensed, and then softened, as if coming to a decision, and a hesitant smile tugged at his lips. “You are beautiful. As always,” he added, and bowed again.

“Thank you, Lennier.” 

He did not look pleased, however. After a long moment, he said, “This is for your dinner with Captain Sheridan.” 

“It is.”

He seemed to tense at this confirmation. “It begins very soon.”

“It does.” Delenn tilted her head. “Is something wrong, Lennier?”

“No, nothing. I only wonder... I wonder what it can mean. This prophecy, the changes it demands of you. All for them, the Humans.”

“And for us, too, Lennier. For Minbar’s future.” She touched his hand lightly. “If we are to heal the wounds of this war and regain the greatest of our souls, sacrifices must be made. I am honored to be the one to make those sacrifices for our people.”

“Even though others do not appreciate them? The Grey Council, the others here, even the Humans - they do not understand.”

“Perhaps, in time, they will. If they do not... then I have done all that I can to help them to see.” She brought his hand up and pressed it lightly to her chest, shocked by how cold it felt on the skin that her dress exposed, and then rested her own hand on his sternum. “Do not worry for me, Lennier. I do not resent what has happened. So long as they did not recall me to Minbar and refuse to let me return here, I knew that I would be at peace with their decision.”

It was, of course, not entirely true. Not entirely. She was content enough, to be sure, but there were moments... To say that she did not miss Minbar, with its high glaciers and steep, sheer mountains, would be a lie. Moreso a lie to say that she did not regret the loss of friends and family left behind, those who would not speak with her because it shamed them to see her changed face. But there were compensations. One of them watched her now, his eyes shining with a devotion that she remembered in her own heart from when she had stood by Dukhat’s side. And she could not allow herself to tarnish that devotion by showing him her doubt.

“One thing more, to prepare.” She smiled and bowed her head briefly over his hand, and then broke their tableau to return to her cosmetics table, where a tiny vial waited. 

“What is it?” Lennier asked.

“Perfume oil. I brought it from home, to remind me of the mountains.” The tiny stopper removed, a scent reached out from the bottle - herbal and spicy, like the sweet scrub-brush that grew near the temple where she had served as a young acolyte. “I have used it only sparingly since arriving here, but it is nearly gone.”

“Surely you could send for more from home.” 

“Perhaps. We shall see. It was not easy to find the first time, and I suspect that soon we will all be far too busy to spend our time and energy on frivolous things. For tonight, however, I am pleased to use it. It reminds me of simpler times.”

As she rubbed it into her skin - one drop each on both wrists, both sides of her neck, and her temples just underneath what remained of her crest - the scent of home and long-ago memories filled the air. A human courtship, perhaps, but for the moment she felt as Minbari as she ever had. A little changed, clinging a little bit to the past, but still the same soul within. Still the same soul, reaching out for another. It would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know that Delenn tells Sheridan it was a store-keeper who told her that the dress would ‘turn heads.’ Consider that, in the context of this story, a lie to save another’s honor. I’m sure Susan would’ve hated to have Sheridan know she played beauty consultant, so... Indulge me.


End file.
